


119 - Pacifier's Music Video

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 16:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17429204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “could you write something rlly cute n fluffy about van watching you do ur makeup and he’s asking a bunch of questions and he’s all interested and adorable as always?????”





	119 - Pacifier's Music Video

As you walked through the gates to the old warehouse, you looked around. It was such a weird mix of people. There was a group of guys sitting on the concrete in a circle. You guessed they were the band; dressed in all black and visibly buzzing, even from a distance. There were other people, older, kicking a football around. Some more well dressed, probably important people stood around too. You only recognised Steve Lamacq among all the people.

You headed around the corner of the only trailer in the lot and collided with a body. "Fuck, sorry love!" he said. He looked at you with blue eyes. His hair was parted in the middle and his sports shoes looked out of place, but in the context of the day, it made sense. He was just a baby, but still the same age as you.

"No harm done," you told him. He smiled, and you liked his crooked front tooth. You pointed behind him, at the trailer. "Got to go," you said. He nodded and stepped aside. He watched you walk up the stairs.

Inside you started to mix the fake blood and get out the tools of the trade needed to create scrapes and bruises. You were doing the makeup and effects for a music video, your agency said. Some new indie band. The video's narrative was a back street football game. Think: Fight Club, but less problematic, they said.

The trick to making people look hurt was to make them perfect before. The actors, or were they real football players - you didn't know, wouldn’t need makeup. They weren't having close ups, or being beaten up. The band filed in one by one, and each of them were polite and excited. They all tried to hide their amusement at getting makeup done. They all made self-deprecating jokes, too. You evened out their skin tone and concealed their tiredness.

Last in was the singer, Van, who had bumped into you earlier. He sat in the makeup chair bouncing. "Gonna need you to be still, honey," you said. He nodded.

"What's that?" he asked as soon as you started to applying makeup to his skin.

"This is primer,"

"What's it for?"

"Priming," you replied with a smirk. You thought he was just making conversation to kill the time, but he was looking at you with genuine interest. "It helps the other stuff stay on for longer, and go on better. It can help smooth out lines and bumps too. That kind of thing,"

"And what's this?" Van asked as you matched concealer to his skin tone. He didn't stop asking, and you had to narrate his makeup experience. When he left the trailer he thanked you and kissed you on the cheek. You went to find coffee while you waited for them to need the blood.

The guys all liked that process more. They watched their reflections in the mirror with a smile. You gave the drummer a grazed cheekbone and a cut on his chin. The guitarist was elbowed in the face in the clip, so you created a thick blood nose and split lip. The bass player had a small cut on his right eyebrow, but would be injured mostly through a punch to the stomach. Larry, who was introduced to you by Van, and who you were unsure if was actually a musician, was pushed along the floor at the start of the video, so you grazed the left side of his face, and split his lip too. Again, Van was last. You gave him a dramatic black eye, and he loved it.

"It looks so real! How'd you do it?"

"You just have to blend it really well and layer the colours. Build up the effect," you told him. He nodded and looked from his reflection back at you.

"You're dead good at this," Van said.

"Thanks. I like doing it,"

"Yours looks real good too," he complimented, pointing to your face. You'd been playing with a glittery cut crease. It had worked out better than you thought, so you left it on when you walked out your front door. You hadn't contoured like you usually did, but your highlighter was extra shimmery. Even your eyebrows seemed to look more even than usual.

You followed Van back to where they were shooting, with your edible fake blood ready. You got to fill the guitarist's mouth with it in the close up of the elbow to the face. It looked good on camera. So much so that Van wanted a go. He winked as you poured some into his mouth. You didn't know what it was about boys in bands spitting blood up everywhere, but you were weirdly into it. You stood back behind the monitors to watch the rest of filming.

At the end of the day, once you had said goodbye to everyone, you were loading your bags and kits into your car. "Hey, Y/N!" a voice called from behind you. Turning, you watched Van bounce over to you. He still had a football and was practising some of the tricks he'd learnt that day. "Didn't get to thank you before ya left," he started. Incorrect. He'd thanked you literally dozens of times. "Really appreciate it. Think the cuts and stuff made the video, you know? Dead fuckin' cool,"

"You're welcome. Just doing my job,"

"Yeah but it's not your job to explain it all to me. So, thank you,"

"You're welcome." He didn't turn to leave. He looked down and you watched him bounce the ball on one foot. The ball flicked up then he looped his legs around it. It was impressive to watch. You closed the boot of your car and leant back on it. "Is there somethin' else I can do for you, Van?" you asked. He stopped bouncing the ball and looked up at you. He smiled like he was waiting for you to ask.

"Uh… Nah. But, I was wondering if you wanted to come out for drinks? Lamo's taking everyone out and he knows all the best places, so you know it will be mayhem,"

"Who else is going?" you asked. You got along with the two assistants hired for the day. They acted like twins, but they weren't related.

"Us," he said, the S sounding like a Z, and meaning the band, "Lamo, our manager - you met her. Think that's it,"

"So not everyone. You sure you're allowed to just invite the makeup girl?"

Van smiled and nodded. "You're more than just the makeup girl. And 'sides, I'm the singer of the band. V.I.P., innit? Do what I like,"

"And what you'd like…"

"For you to come have a drink with me." You watched him for a second, assessing where his confidence was coming from. Was it vanity; did he really think because he was in a band that he could do whatever he wanted, have whoever he wanted? Or, did the confidence come from a nothing-to-lose attitude and a genuine interest in you as a person? He started to play with the ball again, waiting for your response. He looked up at you with the blue eyes again.

"Okay,"

"Yeah?! Yeah! Come on," he said as he hooked an arm around your shoulders and propped the ball under his other. You let him walk you back into the lot. "So, is it easier to do the normal makeup, like your glitter and stuff, or the cuts and blood?"


End file.
